and waves whisper verse
A Poem About Death
Imagination takes hold when writing a poem about death. It has to. As far as I can tell, no one really knows what's beyond death's impenetrable door.
What if death is nothing more than what we imagine it to be? What if we continue from where we left off when we cross that proverbial threshold? So many questions, so little answers.
Masterpiece
They released me today
Slid me into the sea
Wooden box and all
The remains of me
Their figures are in shadow now
As I gaze up at the boat
No longer living
Yet still afloat
I wave goodbye without knowing
Where I am going
What's more
I've crossed death's door
Not a bit like I've imagined
Or what others said it would be
More like a blank canvas
In a sea of overwhelming colors
I pick up my palette and brush
No need to rush
As I'll be painting this masterpiece for eternity
- Aerwyna
Masterpiece
They released me today
Slid me into the sea
Wooden box and all
The remains of me
Their figures are in shadow now
As I gaze up at the boat
No longer living
Yet still afloat
I wave goodbye without knowing
Where I am going
What's more
I've crossed death's door
Not a bit like I've imagined
Or what others said it would be
More like a blank canvas
In a sea of overwhelming colors
I pick up my palette and brush
No need to rush
As I'll be painting this masterpiece for eternity
- Aerwyna
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